San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1887-03-15
The ALLEN GIRLS.
A NEW ENGLAND STORY.
"If It's bad to haze money, it's worse
TO haze none"
BY MISS KATE RICHMOND.

IU1 nlUnUy-nUV AN IuIUU uOI d SCoullu-
rel, but certainly not poor man."
And Kitty. singing to herself as she
ran across the street through Ine lllcKef-
ing elm shadows, was thinking OF the
glOries of Fanny GOrham's bridal outfit.
The afternoon rhyme came to her lips:
IF it's bad to have money, it's worse to
have none"
And as if some fatality ruled the sub
ject, Kitty repeated her sisters ques-
ton when they were alone together
that night.
Leah, would you marry poor mani"
!'No," calmly.
but thought" half bewildered.
"You thought / did not believe in
mercenary marriages. Well-One learns.
/ know myself better now"
She went on plating the heavy braids
with deft fingers, and said no more.
The last bundle of work went away
from the house the next day. In the
summer lull in business there was leis-
ure in the Allen household.
Now we can make over our old
dresses" Kitty said, as if the oppor-
tunity were a privilege. II am going
to finish the last chapter of Anne, and
write two letters"
"And go to the picnic tomorrow"
"Yes, if Dick comes again to see
about it."
Dick came that afternoon The ar
rangement as it had originally stood
had been that the two girls were to
share the Mason carriage with Dick
himself, his mother and sister. But, as
Dick informed Kitty with perfect COM
posture, Charley Morse was coming with
an invitation. He had passed him on
lynnyu Of
Dicks arrangement, and Kitty was to
freedom.
Charley, of course Kitty said,
watching him sharply.
II supposed So with perfect good
temper. But l say, Kitty, if you were
one of my own sisters"
well, if | were one of your own sis
ters?"
Your gown, you know" =.
Yes, / know mockingly. Its
very kind of you, Dick"
The blood ran into his face.
"Of course you know | don't mind.
You are Kitty, and that's enough for
me, in any thing. But a stranger-and
Charley is so fastidious- and he'll be
here in minute"
She thrust out small ragged foot.
ut Is rather awful. I'll go and make
myself fine. Don't you be afraid, Dick"
And not another glimpse of her did
he get, though he fingered to the last
possible minute.
Leah sat and swung placidly in her
low rocker. Her cheap, neat-pattened
lawn was as fresh as when she put it on
three days ago; the lace-work in her
slim hands looked elegant trifling in
stead of having money value for every
inch. Dicks presence did not interfere
with her train of thought; they had
been neighbors all their lives; she had
known him from the day when he at
tanned his first jacket So whether he
talked or was silent it did not matter.
"What wife you'd make for moor
man, he said, suddenly, out of long
pause.
1t seemed as if every one who APP
preached her in some way touched the
trouble in her mind. She did not reply,
looking, at him with kind of panied
smile and going on with her lace.
1t looked very pretty summer pic
ture-the girl in the shady porch, the
hapdsome, idle youth lounging on the
steps at her feet. George Holland
thought so, driving past.
The stylish horses in their glittering
harness, the elegance OF the light VENICE
behind them, caught Leah's attention.
"Who is it?" she asked, rather alb
ruptly.
George Holland"
He did not tell her, as he might have
done, that Holland, having seen her at
church the Sunday before, had left no
stone unturned to find her out. If Leah
had only known it, the cream-colOred
bunting over which she had hesitated
SO long in the buying was destined to
be rather an important factor in that
summers history,
She had one of those sweet, pure New
England faces, flower-like in delicacy,
and yet almost severe in unobtrusive
strength. The thoughtful dark ewes.